


Even

by yeaka



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-10-26 03:05:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10778184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Smaug sulks.





	Even

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Fill for “Apology/Forgiveness” prompt on [my bingo card](http://yeaka.tumblr.com/post/158937866370/fic-bingo).
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Hobbit or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

The dwarves are one awful racket after another, and Smaug _loathes_ them for it. He shifts his paws to cover his ears, but it doesn’t drown out the shaking of the earth. They devastate his mountain like millions of wriggling worms with too many tools for their own good. It takes every last scrap of sentience to keep from going mad and sending them all up in smoke. He’s so busy seething that he doesn’t notice the tiny flicker of firelight until it’s emerged from the tunnel and out into his hall, wandered up right beside his muzzle. 

Bilbo, unmistakable in his little glow of the lantern, holds up an opal no bigger than his palm. “I actually found this one myself,” he chirps proudly, before tossing it onto the small pile of gold in the corner that Smaug’s managed to maintain. “It’s a present for you.” Bilbo smiles brightly enough to chip away at some of the sourness in Smaug’s mood. Only Bilbo can do that to him.

Only Bilbo could keep him from devouring the insufferable beasts that now swarm his halls. The cavern he’s kept deep below the mountain is enough to stretch his wings in, enough to hold the remnants of his treasure and whatever scraps he brings in from the hunt, but it’s still _nothing_ compared to the enormity he once commanded. Huffing out a small cloud of steam, Smaug grumbles irritably, “It’s a pitiful apology.”

Bilbo’s pleasant demeanor instantly fizzles out. Under other circumstances, Smaug might enjoy company for his misery, but it always irks him when Bilbo frowns. Bilbo tsks, “It’s not an apology at all, because I did nothing wrong. I found an equitably solution for everyone.”

Smaug snorts, sending more steam up around Bilbo’s little feet. He bites back a scathing comment about how he could’ve easily managed a far better solution for himself; he could’ve kept this mountain all to himself and destroyed anyone who wanted otherwise. But then Bilbo would’ve never spoken to him again, and he might’ve spent another several centuries _alone_.

He still will. He knows Bilbo is nowhere near as long-lived as a dragon. But as long as Bilbo lives, Smaug holds his tongue. He averts his golden eyes away to glare holes in the cave walls instead. Bilbo’s tired sigh plays louder than the clamour of the dwarves mining far above them.

Bilbo sets the lantern down and walks to its edge, extending his tiny arms along Smaug’s muzzle. He gives Smaug a few loving pets, heedless of the teeth nearly as tall as him. He presses a soft kiss to Smaug’s scales and murmurs, “I’m sorry, Smaug.” Smaug’s eyes flicker back, and Bilbo holds him tighter, flattening against his burning flesh. “I know you never wished to be displaced... I’m sorry you have to share, and that they took some of your treasure.” Smaug would nod proudly, but he wouldn’t want to dislodge Bilbo’s grip on him. Bilbo wanders up Smaug’s snout, soft hands trailing along, past his eye, into his array of horns, where Bilbo presses another kiss high on his cheek and quietly purrs, “I’m sorry for asking so much of you... can you ever forgive me?”

The fire that burns in Smaug’s chest is more than his natural inferno. His claws silently curl into the earth, his tail flicking back in the black shadow; he hopes Bilbo can’t see it, can’t see the physical depiction of his pleasure. He makes a show of sighing, “Very well.” And then he lets that tail emerge from the darkness, and he winds the end lightly around Bilbo’s stout form. It’s his way of embracing Bilbo back.

He laments the loss of his empire, but he concedes, at least, that he did come out with the most exquisite jewel of all.


End file.
